


His New Wings

by PhoenixamongstWolves



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Tattoos, a little bit OOC Dean, excessive schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixamongstWolves/pseuds/PhoenixamongstWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course at this point, Dean’s “No chick flick moments” rule has been absolutely shattered, blown to pieces and then stomped on just for good measure. Dean can’t really bring himself to care. That rule was always null and void when it came to Cas anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His New Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sort of AU after "Swan Song." For the sake of fiction, let's all just assume that the devil has been stopped, but Sam is still on Earth with soul attatched, not in the pit.  
> Un-beta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

Honestly, Dean isn’t quite sure what to expect from Castiel after the whole apocalypse thing is over and done with. He hadn’t put too much thought into it beforehand, considering that there were more pressing matters, but now that Sam’s back and life is going back to normal, (or as normal as things ever get for a Winchester,) it starts to sink in that there’s no reason for Cas to stay anymore. Heaven’s a mess; someone needs to sort it all out, and really, Dean can’t think of a better person for the job than his angel friend, especially considering that Cas is all new and improved or whatever.

Not that he cares, of course. Cas is his friend and all, and yeah, they’ve had some good times together, so he might miss him a little bit. But when Dean’s chest starts to ache slightly two weeks later, it’s not like it’s because he’s thinking about Castiel. Or about how he never really said goodbye. Or about how strange it feels not having him here. Nope. Definitely none of those things. At least that’s what he keeps telling himself, as he rests his left arm on Bobby’s table and has another sip of beer.

That doesn’t change the fact that when he hears a quiet fluttering sound, and looks up to see a familiar pair of blue eyes and a trench coat, the ache suddenly stops. Or that when he hears Castiel’s gravelly “Hello Dean,” his heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest.

“Cas? What the hell are you doing here?”

Dean’s heart does another little jump when the angel gives him his signature head tilt and eyebrow scrunch.

“Do you not want me to be here? I can leave if you’d like.”

“What? No! Of course I don’t- no, you don’t have to. To go, I mean.” And if Dean’s protests come out a little (or a lot) quicker and louder than he intended them to, well, that’s only because he didn’t get enough sleep last night, so he’s a little jumpier than normal. It’s plausible, as far as excuses go, he tells himself. Then he gives himself a mental smack for talking to himself, in his head, no less.

“Oh. Okay then.” Cas sits down at the chair next to Dean’s, and looks at him. A couple of silent seconds pass. Dean waits for Cas to say something.

“So, um…how are things in Heaven?” he supplies eventually, when it’s clear that the angel has no intentions of speaking.

“Chaotic.”

Dean waits another couple of seconds. Castiel does not elaborate.

“I guess the angels aren’t happy, then…you know, that Michael’s gone, and all.”

“That would be an understatement,” Cas says seriously. “The angels are furious. Raphael, especially. I trust you remember him?”

“Who, the ninja turtle? Yeah, I remember.” Dean pauses, thinks for a moment, then realizes that he’s looking at the floor. He looks back up. Cas is openly staring at him. “You, uh…you okay, Cas?”

Cas nods. “I am fine, Dean. What makes you think that I would be otherwise?”

Dean is taken aback by the question. “Well, I mean, considering that your brothers are still fighting and all, I guess I’m just sorta surprised to see you here. I kinda assumed that Heaven would need you 24/7.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything for another couple of seconds. Dean’s just about to open his mouth to ask some more questions about how Heaven is, when Cas finally says “I put much thought into what would happen if we managed to stop Michael and Lucifer. I too thought that Heaven might require my constant presence.” He pauses, considering. “It did. At least at first. My brothers were constantly fighting, and it was all that the few of us who withheld ourselves from these fights could do to maintain any order whatsoever. But things are better now. And I do not believe that I am required in Heaven any longer. So I came here.”

Dean doesn’t notice how dry his lips are until he opens his mouth again. “To say goodbye?” Castiel does another eyebrow scrunch. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To say goodbye?”

Cas shakes his head, slowly. “To say hello.”

Dean isn’t quite sure what that’s supposed to mean, so he lets the subject drop. And when Cas asks how Sam’s been, and Dean tells him, the two of them start up a fairly pleasant conversation, and it makes Dean feel like he’s back in old times. Only better. Because the world isn’t ending.

\---

Dean oversleeps the next morning. Considering that he and Sam have just saved the world, he figures that the least he deserves is a decent night’s sleep. So it’s almost noontime when he wakes up from dreams that definitely weren’t about Cas.

He yawns, throws on the first shirt he can find and a pair of jeans, and heads to the kitchen, wondering if Sam’s picked up something for lunch yet. His question is answered when he sees Bobby, Sam, and Castiel, all sitting at the kitchen table and eating cheeseburgers. Castiel has a drop of ketchup on his bottom lip, and Dean’s stomach does a little jolt as he pokes his tongue out and licks it away. Not that Cas doing that is hot, or anything. Of course not. Because even if it is, that’s got to be a sin, or something. Noticing an angel in _that_ way.

Cas smiles slightly as Dean approaches the table. “Good morning, Dean. There is another burger in the bag, if you wish to join us.”

And as Dean sits down between Sam and Cas and unwraps his burger, as Sam happily explains their current case to the angel, Dean doesn’t question the fact that it’s the second day in a row that Cas has chosen to spend the day with them, rather than in Heaven. If he’s being honest with himself, it’s because in this moment, he’s the happiest he’s been in a long time. Now is definitely not the time to be questioning the angel’s reasoning.

\---

A week later, Dean can’t ignore it anymore- Castiel has been spending way more time with them than he should, considering the circumstances. Namely, Cas hasn’t made a single trip to heaven throughout the entire week. Dean’s not complaining, but something is definitely up.

He and Sam have been kind of taking things easy. They did a quick salt and burn down in Nebraska a couple of days ago, but other than that, they've been lying pretty low. If anyone deserves some time off, Dean thinks that they do. So they’ve been lounging around Bobby’s place, talking with Cas.

Cas has been asking a lot of questions, something else that Dean finds really odd. The thing is, the questions that Cas has been asking lately aren’t questions that an angel would really need to know the answers to. They’re questions about human life. When they pass by a bunch of teenagers playing on their PSP’s, Cas asks them why human males, in general, seem to prefer video games to reading. When Sam heats up a bowl of Ramen noodle soup on a Wednesday night, Cas asks him to explain how the microwave works. When Dean sits around on a sunny afternoon channel surfing, Cas wants to know why people find enjoyment in watching procedural cop shows. (Dean doesn’t have an answer to that particular question.)

It’s not like Dean minds explaining things to Cas, because it’s actually kind of the opposite. He enjoys it. He likes the feeling he gets when he answers the angel’s questions, of being able to help Cas out for a change when so often in the past it’s been the other way around. But he’s a little bit worried too, because this isn’t typical behavior for Castiel. It’s not typical behavior for any angel, period, especially since Dean’s pretty sure all the other angels are duking it out in Heaven right now, and Cas should probably be with them. Not sitting on the couch next to Dean, eating Doritos.

It’s as Dean is pondering all of this, trying to figure out how to bring it up to Cas when the angel in question turns to him, and says quietly “Can I ask you something?”

Dean always finds that amusing. Castiel will never just go ahead and ask him questions; the questions are always started with a“Can I ask you something?”, as if Dean’s going to say no.

"Sure, Cas.”

“Do you have any extra salt that I could have?”

For a second Dean isn’t sure if he’s heard him right. He shakes his head quickly, as if clearing his brain. “Come again?”

“I was wondering if I could have some rock salt, if you have any to spare.”

Of course they’ve got loads to spare, and Dean could easily get up and grab some to give to Cas. But he doesn’t. Instead he counters with his own question.

“Why would you need rock salt?”

Cas bites his lip, and Dean is even more taken aback. He’s never seen Cas do that before. The small gesture seems almost foreign on Castiel’s face.

“You and Sam always seem to find it very helpful. I figured that it might be a good idea for me to start carrying some around as well.”

If Dean was confused when Cas asked his original question, he’s completely perplexed now. “Cas…you’re an angel. Why would you need salt?”

Cas doesn’t answer. He just keeps looking at Dean, who figures now’s as good of a time as any to bring up what he wanted to talk about.

“It’s not just the salt, either. You’ve been acting weird all week.” Dean’s startled when Cas looks almost hurt by his statement, and quickly backtracks. “I mean, I don’t mind that you’re asking questions; I just want to know. Why would you need to know about any of these things? You’re an angel. Angel’s don’t need to watch TV, or use a microwave.”

Cas stands up suddenly. When he speaks, every word has a small space separating it from the next, like he’s choosing each one of them very carefully.

“I didn’t realize that I had become a burden. I apologize. I will leave now.”

“What?” This was not the way that this conversation was supposed to go. “Cas, no! You’re not a burden at all! What are you talking about?” Now it’s Cas that looks confused, though Dean doesn’t understand why. When did he say anything that implied he didn’t want Cas around?

He stands up too, so that he can look Cas directly in the eyes. “I don’t have a problem with you being here. I like you being here. You’re actually…pretty nice to have around. I’m just confused as hell, Cas. Why would you prefer being around a couple of hunters over being with your brothers in Heaven?”

Cas closes his eyes, sighs, then opens them again. “I was expecting this question.”

Dean stares at him blankly as his eyes seem to glaze over, as though his mind is someplace far away from Bobby’s living room. Almost a minute passes before Cas’s eyes go back to normal, and he finally continues.

“Dean, things in Heaven aren’t as bad as you might think. Yes, my brothers are arguing amongst themselves, and yes, things are still very disorderly, but there were angles that did disagree with the others’plans to bring on the apocalypse, though they did not voice their dissent at the time. Now, it is these angles that are helping to restore order to Heaven. And they are doing their job well. It might take a while, but Heaven may be back to normal sooner than you seem to think.”

Cas punctuates the end of his sentence by sitting back down on the couch. Dean, struggling to take it all in, maintains eye contact as he slowly sits back down next to the angel.  
“Cas, I’m glad and all. That things are going back to normal for your brothers, and stuff, but…that doesn’t answer the question. I just want to know- why are you here right now? Why are you choosing to be with us instead of them?”

Cas sighs again. “It’s hard for me to explain. I’m only just figuring it out myself. But Dean, believe me when I say that I have a reason for being here. I have a _good_ reason for being here. It makes me happy, spending time with you.” A brief pause. “And Sam, and Bobby too. I really am happy here, and if it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “You mean like, permanently?”

“If it’s alright with you and the others, of course.”

Part of Dean wants to press harder, and get Cas to give him a real answer, not some cop out. Another part of him wants to answer Cas, tell him that he’ll always be welcome here.

The part of him that wins out is the small voice in the back of his head, saying “No chick flick moments.” So Dean leaves the room for a couple of minutes, and when he comes back, he tosses Cas a small bag of rock salt, then sits back down and steals a Dorito from the angel.

When Cas smiles, and softly says “Thank you,” Dean knows that Cas understands the words the Dean would say if he knew how. He’s grateful. It makes things much easier when he can think the words “Welcome to the family,” without having to actually say them out loud.

\---

It’s been a couple of months since Sam came home from the 7/11 to find Dean’s head on Cas’s shoulder, snoring as Cas finished the last of the Doritos. Now, Dean is sitting at the kitchen table, grumbling and gingerly holding his bloody left hand in his slightly less bloody right one, while Cas gets the first aid kit out from the closet, taking out the bandages and heading over to join Dean. Sam and Bobby are out finishing up the hunt that Dean screwed up when his hands had slipped and Ruby’s knife had sliced through his left hand instead of through the demon’s skull.

Cas has been adjusting to life with the Winchesters pretty well, Dean thinks. They’ve gotten him to start changing his clothes, though his favorite outfit is still the trench coat, and Cas’s language has slowly started to adapt to the modern slang, even if he still uses considerably less contractions than humans do. In public, he’s learned to just go by Cas, since people usually look at him funnily when he says his name is Castiel. He comes with them on hunts too. Castiel uses rock salt, holy water, and guns like the rest of them, and he has to say, Cas is actually a pretty good shot. He doesn’t use his angel mojo while on hunts anymore, for a reason that Dean’s stopped trying to figure out.

A thought suddenly occurs to Dean, as Cas helps him bandage up his hand. “Hey Cas?”

“Yeah?”

“Can’t you just angel mojo my hand all better?”

Castiel freezes halfway through tying up the bandage. After a couple of seconds, he slowly finishes the knot he’s been tying and leans back in his chair.

"I suppose I could,” he muses.

Dean waits for him to reach out and do his thing. After a couple of seconds, it’s pretty clear that Cas isn’t planning on doing so.

“Okay then…so why aren’t you?”

Cas sighs. Dean’s noticed that Cas seems to sigh more and more often as he spends more and more time with him and Sam. Some of their human must be rubbing off on him.

“So you’ve noticed.”

“What, that you haven’t been using your mojo at all lately?” Because Dean has noticed. The ‘no mojo on hunts’ thing has been going on for a while now, but for the past two weeks, Cas hadn’t been doing any of his angel stuff whatsoever, not even while hanging out at Bobby’s house. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. Why?”

Cas leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his palms, but still looking at Dean. “I’ve stopped using my‘angel mojo,’ as you call it, because I’ve been thinking lately. About what I want to do, with the rest of my life.”

“The rest of your life?” Now Dean’s really confused. “You’re an angel. You guys are immortal or whatever.”

“That’s the thing.”

“What? You mean you’re not?”

“What I mean is, I’m not sure that I want to be.”

Dean squints a little bit, mouth slightly open, before speaking slowly. “You don’t want to live forever.” Cas nods, and Dean throws his hands in the air, wincing as his left one gives a jolt of pain. “Who doesn’t want to live forever? Why the hell not, Cas?”

“It all leads back to one thing, really. Humanity.”

Dean stares. “Humanity?”

“Yes Dean,” Cas says solemnly. “Humanity. What it means to be human. All of the benefits, and all of the disadvantages. You could call the stage I’m in right now, a ‘trial run.’ ”

Dean doesn’t think he’s ever been more bewildered in his life, as the full meaning of what Cas is saying sinks in. “You… _you_ want to be _human_? And this, this is your way of, what, testing it out?”

“Yes.”

“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean’s tone is exasperated, like that of a parent explaining something to a child. “Why the hell would you want to be human?”

“That’s where things get complicated,” Cas says, blue eyes slightly wider than normal. “I can’t explain it because I’m not human. Angels don’t _feel_ the way humans do, Dean. Except that I think that I’m starting to. To feel, I mean. And that’s why I think I want to become human.”

“For a _feeling_?”

Cas nods, completely serious. “For a feeling. A strong one. And up until now, I’ve been contemplating whether losing everything that I know now- my brothers, my wings, my grace- is worth it if I’m able to have this feeling. Only now,” he tilts he head, “now, I think that I know.”

“Know what?”

“That it will be worth it.”

Dean is stunned. “So it’s final. You want to become human. You want to give up everything you have, as an angel, to become human.”

“Yes.”

“Cas, even for you, that’s just stupid.”

"Love is always stupid, but that’s what makes it love, isn’t it?”

Dean opens his mouth, then closes it again. “ _What?_ ”

Cas blushes, the first time Dean’s ever seen him do so. “It was, um, a line. In a romantic comedy. I, uh, I was watching the other day, and, um-”

“Love? You’re in _love_ with somebody?”

“Well, yes. At least I think I am.” Cas is blushing even more now, flustered, and Dean thinks that he about to lose it. He’s never used the word ‘flabbergasted’ in his life, but he thinks that it pretty much sums up the way he’s feeling right now. He shakes his head, trying to calm down, eyes on the ground.

“Cas. You’ve got to be sure. I don’t know who the hell you think you’re in love with, but whoever it is, you’ve got to be sure.” And no, of course that isn’t jealousy that’s boiling in Dean’s throat and making his words sound hoarser than he wants them to. His eyes are still examining the floorboards. “If you’re going to give up being an angel, it had better damn well be worth it. You’ve got to know that you are absolutely in love with this person. You’ve got to be sure.”

And then Dean feels it. His eyes are down, so he doesn’t see it coming. But he feels it. Feels the pair of lips slowly press against his own, as his eyes shoot up from the ground to gaze into Castiel’s. And then he presses his lips right back.

Kissing Castiel is nothing like Dean expected, because yeah, maybe he’s thought about this before. Maybe he’s thought about what it would feel like to have those soft lips touch his own, but in reality, Cas’s lips are anything but soft. They’re rough, and chapped, but Dean’s are too, and somehow, as their lips dance together, it’s right. It’s right because Cas doesn’t taste like an angel, he tastes like Cas and Dean moans because damn if Cas isn’t the best thing he’s ever tasted, and he wants more.

The kiss lasts several seconds, or maybe minutes, Dean isn’t sure, but as Cas starts to pull away, all Dean knows is that however long it was, it wasn’t long enough. So he reaches for Cas and crushes his lips back onto the angel’s and this time it’s Castiel who moans as Dean controls the kiss, tongue meeting tongue and expressing emotions that no words can. And it’s rough, and it’s hot, and it’s perfect, and Dean is asking himself why didn’t have the balls to do this sooner, because this? He could do this for the rest of his life.

When Castiel eventually pulls away again, he’s smiling like Dean’s never seen him smile before, and Dean can feel his own face mirroring that smile back at Cas.

“I’m sure,” Cas says quietly.

\---

It’s only when he sees Cas sleeping in the backseat of the Impala two days later that Dean notices it.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Ouch!” Sam rubs the spot under his ribs where Dean’s elbowed him and shoots his brother one of his bitch faces. Dean ignores him.

“Cas is sleeping in the backseat.”

Sam just looks at him.

“Cas is _sleeping_ in the backseat,” Dean repeats.

“Yeah, I got you the first time. So?”

“So? Sam, he’s _sleeping_. Angels don’t sleep.”

The look Sam gives him makes Dean feel like an idiot. “Of course angels don’t sleep, Dean. Cas isn’t an angel anymore.” Sam raises an eyebrow when Dean looks taken aback. “You mean you didn’t know?”

“No, I…I just figured that it would happen all gradual, you know? I didn’t expect it to be all like ‘poof! You’re a human now,’ I guess.”

“It is gradual, in most cases,” Sam informs him. “But there are also ways that angels can fall from grace instantly. Like, certain acts that are forbidden.”

“Let me guess- kissing a human?”

“Bingo.”

They sit in silence for a while, until Dean asks, “How do you know all this anyway?”

“Cas told me about it, when he was asking me for advice and stuff about you.”

“Huh,” Dean says, deep in thought, until he takes in the rest of what Sam’s just said. “You gave Cas _advice_ about me?”

Sam tries hard not to smirk. He fails miserably. “Dean, you two were pretty obvious about each other, you know. It wasn’t that hard to see the way you looked at each other. I just…pushed things along a little.”

And really, Dean doesn’t mind, because apparently it’s partially because of Sam that he and Cas are together, and he’s grateful. But of course, he’s not going to say that to his little brother. So he elbows him again instead.

Sam winces, but shakes his head, still smirking. “Jerk.”

Dean smiles as he glances at Cas through the rearview mirror. “Bitch.”

\---

Cas misses certain things about being an angel. Dean can tell, even if Cas tries to make him think otherwise. Dean notices him, when they’re getting ready to go somewhere, and Cas will get that look on his face like he’s pooping. It’s as if he’s not sure why his wings aren’t working, until his face falls and he remembers that he’s human now, and that humans can’t magically teleport themselves whenever they want to travel. And Dean will sometimes catch him rubbing his back, as if remembering wings that are no longer there.

Dean hates moments like these. Of course it’s only natural for Cas to miss Heaven, and Cas has assured him several times that he’s sure he made the right choice. Still, Dean hates seeing Castiel upset, especially since he knows that Cas would still have his wings if it weren’t for Dean.

It’s a little more than half a year since their first kiss when Cas starts to question Dean about his and Sam’s protective tattoos. Dean explains the process of getting a tattoo to him, and Cas seems intrigued.

“Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, but you get over it, you know. Nothing compared to the injuries we get on hunts.”

“Hmm.” Cas gets that far-off look in his eyes, the one he gets when he’s thinking of his old home, and Dean’s heart gives a pang, even though he has no idea why Cas would be thinking of Heaven while discussing tattoos.

\---

Castiel frowns as he enters the tattoo parlor. It’s late, and Dean and Sam are at home sleeping, so he’s alone. He’s gotten so used to having Dean constantly at his side that it feels strange not having him here now.

A young blonde woman with a nose ring and a warm smile walks up to him. “Hi, I’m Jackie.”

“Jackie,” he repeats, smiling back as he reaches into his pocket. “I’m Cas.” He pulls out a piece of paper, unfolds it, and holds it out for Jackie to take. “For my back,” he explains, as Jackie looks over the carefully drawn design.

“This is going to be really complicated to do,” she warns. “I can do it, but it’s going to take forever. Gonna hurt like a bitch too.”

“I do not mind,”he says softly.

“Okay then,” she shrugs, and shows him to a chair, moving around the room as she gets things ready. “First tattoo?”

“Yes.”

She nods in understanding, then smiles. He decides that he likes her smile.

“So who’s Dean?”

Castiel feels like he’s going to swell in pride. “My boyfriend.”

“Must be some guy.”

“Yes,” he agrees with her. “He is.”

\---

The first thing that Dean notices when he wakes up is that he’s cold, and that makes him frown. He’s not used to being cold. Yeah, it’s winter, and the heat doesn’t work in this shitty motel, but that doesn’t mean that he should be cold. That just means that Cas should be keeping him warm.

He sits up, still frowning. Cas isn’t in bed. Cas isn’t even in the motel room.

Well, that explains why it’s cold.

He leans towards the rickety nightstand, pulling the chord on the lamp, and winces as sudden light fills the room. He throws his legs over the side of the bed, squinting as he reaches for his phone. The lit up screen tells him that it’s 3:09 am, and now he’s crossed the line from slightly worried to moderately scared, because in their line of work, they never go somewhere without telling each other, not in the middle of the night. Unless they want to hide something, his brain adds unhelpfully, and Dean scowls as he punches in Cas’s number and holds the phone to his ear.

A couple of seconds later, the Immigrant Song starts playing from across the room, and Dean hangs up, even more upset. Normally, the sound of Cas’s ringtone makes him smile; Dean’s pretty proud of the fact that his own excellent taste of music has rubbed off on Cas to the point that he’s got a Zeppelin song as his ringtone. But all he does now is ball his left hand into a fist. Because even if Cas had left in the middle of the night of his own free will, he wouldn’t have left his phone behind. Which brings up the possibility that Cas might not have left of his own free will.

About a minute and a half later, he’s out in the hallway, pounding on the door of the room next to his own. “Sam! Sammy! Open the god damn door!” He lets out an exasperated sound as he keeps pounding away. Most nights, it’s nice that they have separate rooms, since it means Sam can get a decent night’s sleep while Dean can have his way with Cas next door. Right now, he’s just mentally cursing how much time it’s taking for him to get to Sam, because time is a luxury that he’s not going to have until he figures out where the hell his boyfriend is.

After what feels like freakin _forever_ , Sam finally opens the door. “Dean! Shut up! God, the whole motel’s probably awake thanks to you-”

“Do you know where Cas is?” Dean interrupts him, as he storms into the room and looks around for any sign of the fallen angel.

Sam’s face changes from annoyed to worried, and Dean groans, knowing what his brother is going to say before Sam can even open his mouth. Because there’s no reason for Sam to look worried unless he’s just as clueless as Dean is.

\---

Two hour later, Dean’s back in his room, pacing back and forth with phone in hand as he waits for Sam to call. Every bone in his body wants to be out of this god damn room, looking for Cas with Sam. He knows that Sam’s right, that if Cas does come back, someone needs to be here waiting for him, but that doesn’t make it any fucking easier. The phone is to his ear less than a second after it starts ringing.

“Did you find him?”

“Dean, I’ve checked everywhere. The graveyard that we scouted out earlier, the burger place that we at lunch at, that old house on main street that we were questioning that old woman at, everywhere. I’ve been calling people this whole time, asking everyone we’ve ever met if they’ve seen him. No one has. I have no idea where he is.”

Dean sinks down onto the bed, head in hand. There’s silence, as Sam waits for him to say something, but he doesn’t know what to say. They have to find Cas. They have to. Not finding him isn’t an option. Because Cas has somehow managed to worm his way into Dean’s heart, and at this point, Dean isn’t really sure who he is without him.

And then the door opens. And Dean drops the phone onto the bed and hurls himself across the room and into Cas so hard that they both topple over onto the ground.

“Dean, what the-”

“Cas.” Dean’s vocabulary is reduced to one word. “Cas. _Cas_.”

And then Dean starts sobbing for the first time in as long as he can remember, letting himself break down completely as Castiel holds him and whispers words of comfort.

\---

Once Dean finally stops crying, and manages to string together enough words to let Sam know that everything’s okay and that he can come back to the motel, the anger starts to sink in. Because damn it, he’s been worried sick about Cas, and now it turns out that he’s been worrying for absolutely no reason, because Cas is fine. (There’s also the fact that he just spend the last ten minutes crying, which is like, the absolute worst possible breach of the “No chick flick moments” rule.) He’s about to tell Cas so, in no uncertain terms, and ask him where the hell he’s been, when Cas gives him an answer without any prompting.

“Dean, I know you’re upset. I know that you’re probably mad too. And you have every right to be. I was being stupid. I had to go get something important done, and didn’t want to bother you with it, so I figured that I’d just go do it while you were asleep. It’s as simple as that. And I’m sorry. Dean, I am so sorry. There aren’t even words to express how sorry I am.”

Cas is telling the truth. It’s easy for Dean to see just by looking at the regret and guilt in Cas’s eyes, even without the prior knowledge that his boyfriend is a horrible liar. And he wants to stay mad at Cas. He really does. But right now, he’s just tired, and relieved, and happy that Cas is back, and it’s pretty much impossible to get mad at Cas anyway, so Dean’s not going to even bother trying.

“I’m not mad, Cas. I’m still upset, yeah, but I’m not mad. Just explain it to me. Because I can’t for the life of me think of what’s so important that you would need to do it in the middle of the night. And why the hell didn’t you bring your phone with you?”

Cas sighs. “Honestly? I forgot. I was kind of deep in thought when I left, and it completely slipped my mind. As for what I was doing…” He hesitates. “If it’s okay, I’d like to keep that to myself, at least for a little while. I will tell you, I promise, but I just need a little time to think it over before I explain it to you. Is that okay?” His eyes widen slightly, pleading with Dean. “Because if you really need me to tell you, I will. I would do anything for you. I just really don’t want to. Yet.”

He tilts his head. Dean sighs. He’s never been able to resist that damn head tilt.

“It’s okay Cas. Tell me when you’re ready.”

Cas leans over and kisses him, softly. Dean kisses back, then buries his face in the warm crevice between Cas’s neck and shoulders, exhaling deeply. He moves to put his arms around him.

Instantly, Cas winces, and pulls away, and Dean looks up, confused. “Babe?”

Cas smiles at the affectionate nickname. “It’s just, my back. I’m going to have to be very careful these next few days.”

“You hurt or something?”

“Kind of?” Dean’s face turns from confused to worried, and Castiel backtracks. “Not badly, Dean. It’s not like I’m injured or anything. It’s just…complicated. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m fine. I’m just going to have to be a little careful.”

“Huh.” Dean ponders that for a moment, then frowns. “Does ‘being careful’ mean no sex?”

Cas smiles again. “I think we can work something out. You’ll have to do most of the work, though.”

Dean grins. “I can live with that.”

\---

Cas hasn’t taken his shirt off. It’s been a week, and Cas hasn’t taken his shirt off once, not in front of Dean at least. And Dean has absolutely no idea what to make of it.

He’s gotten over being upset with Cas over the whole going out in the middle of the night thing. Cas is safe, and that should be the end of it. Only it’s not. Because Cas still hasn’t told him where he went that night, or what he was doing. And that worries Dean. Not because he doesn’t like the fact that his boyfriend is keeping secrets from him, because that’s the obvious reason, but more so because if something’s bothering Cas, or is hurting him in any way, _he_ should know about it. Because it’s his job to protect Cas, and he can’t do his job unless he knows what’s wrong with him, damn it.

And that, more than anything, is the reason that when Cas heads to the bathroom after lunch to take a shower, Dean follows him. Because he’s pretty sure that it’s going to be impossible for Cas to take a shower with a shirt on.

Cas doesn’t bother closing the bathroom door behind him, since Sam’s in Minnesota questioning a couple of witnesses and Bobby is paying a visit to a certain Sherriff Mills, meaning that Dean and Cas are researching at Bobby’ place by themselves for a couple of days. Dean stands outside the door with his back to the wall, head turned towards the room and eyes following Cas’s movements with his peripheral vision.

Cas reaches out a hand to turn on the shower, then starts to dispense of his clothes. He starts by carefully removing the black circular amulet that Dean gave him on their one month anniversary, and gently placing it on the counter next to the sink.

And then the shirt comes off.

Dean can’t stop the gasp that comes out of his mouth. Cas turns his head sharply towards him, because even as a human, Cas has wicked good ears, so Dean doesn’t even try to be quiet as he runs away from the bathroom, through the kitchen and out into the Salvage Yard, ignoring the call of “Dean!” that comes from behind him. He climbs up onto the roof of a rusty blue car, and only then does he allow himself to rest his head in his hands.

_Wings_.

Cas has _wings_ tattooed onto his back. Beautiful, long black wings that extend all the way to his shoulders, tips finishing slightly below his waist.

Cas misses his wings so much that he has a tattoo of them.

And if it weren’t for Dean, Cas would still have the real things.

This is entirely his fucking fault. He should never have let Cas kiss him. Cas would have been happier without him. Cas would still have his wings. Now, all he has are some feathers made of ink. And for what? For Dean. It’s all _his_ fault.

“Dean!”

He can hear Cas’s footsteps getting closer. He doesn’t look up, not even when he feels the car creak and groan, as Cas steps up onto it and sits next to him.

“Dean. Did you- did you see-”

“Yeah.” Dean finally looks up. He knows the guilt is probably written all across his face. He hopes that Cas, who is once again fully clothed, will understand that he’s sorry, because he’s not sure if he’s going to be able to say it out loud.

“Oh.” Cas is quiet, and the two of them sit in silence for a while, until the fallen angel finally speaks again. “I- I’m sorry, Dean.”

“What?” Dean shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Cas. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

“It’s not your fault-”

“How is this not my fault?” Dean interrupts him. “This is completely my fault!”

“No, it’s not. I should never have assumed…I’m so sorry Dean. I- I’m sure that I can find some way to get it removed, if you’d like.”

“Removed? What?” Dean can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Why would you do that?”

Cas frowns. “I figured…I mean, since you don’t like it, I could always-”

And now Dean’s figured it out. Cas is protecting him. Just like he was when he didn’t want to show Dean the tattoo in the first place. He doesn’t want Dean to get hurt, because they both know that it really _is_ Dean’s fault.

“Cas, no. Keep the freaking tattoo. I’ve got nothing against it. I guess it’s the closest you’re gonna get now to the real things anyway, thanks to me.” He sighs. “I just…I wish you had told me how much you missed it.”

Cas does the signature head tilt. “Missed what?”

“The wings, being an angel…everything, probably. The point is, you don’t have to hide these things from me. You were protecting me, I get it, but you shouldn’t have to.”

Cas sits up a little taller, and Dean is confused to see that Cas is confused. “You think…you think that I miss being an angel? You think _that’s_ why I got the tattoo?

Dean scrunches up his eyebrows. “Well, yeah. You mean, that…that isn’t the reason?”

“How much of the tattoo did you actually see, Dean?”

“Enough of it.” Dean isn’t quite sure what Cas expects him to say. “It’s a pair of wings, Cas. There’s not that much to see.”

“Really?” Cas has a determined look on his face. “Because I think that you should take a closer look.”

Dean closes his eyes as Cas lifts up the back of his shirt for Dean to see. And Dean doesn’t want to look. He doesn’t want to have to look at the reminder that he’s ruined Cas’s life.

“Dean, _please_. _Look_.”

So Dean opens his eyes. And he looks.

And it turns out that maybe he’s the one that’s gotten it wrong after all. Because what he sees when he takes a closer look at the wings, is his name.

Every single line, every single mark of every single feather, is made up of a string of words. His name. Over and over and over again.

_Dean_.

He just looks at it. At his name, all over Castiel’s back. And he doesn’t even try to stop the single tear from rolling down his cheek when it comes.

The sudden wetness dripping onto his back makes Cas turn around to face him again. “Dean?”

And there are so many different things that are running through Dean’s head right now, but only two words manage to make it from his brain to his mouth. “Cas…why?”

Cas seems to understand all the different things he’s trying to ask just with those two words.

“When I was an angel, I always thought that my wings were the best part of me. Not because they were useful, but because they symbolized everything that I stood for. They were the physical embodiment of my grace. And my grace was everything to me. It was who I was.”

“And then I was the one who raised you from perdition. And things changed. I started feeling emotions. Love. And as it grew stronger and stronger, my grace seemed to grow less bright. You know, the moment that it occurred to me that becoming human was an option?” Dean shakes his head. “It was when you handed me that bag of rock salt. Do you remember?”

Dean nods, still crying. “Of course, Cas. I remember. When you asked me if you could stay with us permanently.”

“And you said yes. By handing me that bag.” Cas shakes his head, lost in the memory. “I fell even more in love with you that day, Dean. And I could feel my grace weakening even more. But for the first time, I didn’t care. At all. Because as long as I had you, I didn’t need my grace. You’re my everything now, Dean. Yes, sometimes I will miss my brothers, or my home, but you are my Heaven. You’re my wings now, Dean. And I wanted to get this tattoo so that you would know that.” He blushes, and looks down slightly. “Only I got scared. That you wouldn’t feel as strongly for me as I feel for you.”

“So you didn’t want to show me right away,” Dean finishes for him, head spinning.

Cas’s blue eyes meet Dean’s green ones, and he nods slowly. “Yes. And just now, when you ran away from me, I thought the same thing. And that’s why I was sorry.”

They fall into silence again, simply looking at each other. Until the words come tumbling out of Dean’s mouth.

“Iloveyou.”

Head tilt. “What?”

Dean takes a deep breath. “I love you, Cas.” He realizes that it’s the first time that he’s actually said the words out loud, despite the number of times that he’s thought them. “I think I probably always have, even at the beginning, and I know that I always will. I just- I can’t believe that you would do something this big for me. That you-”His voice starts breaking. “-that you care for me as much as I care for you. And…I don’t know…what I did to deserve someone as perfect as you.”

He’s interrupted by Cas’s lips pressing against his own. He doesn’t mind the interruption.

They end up spending the night lying next to each other on top of the car, foreheads pressed together and legs intertwined, arms around each other.

Of course at this point, Dean’s “No chick flick moments” rule has been absolutely shattered, blown to pieces and then stomped on just for good measure. Dean can’t really bring himself to care.

That rule was always null and void when it came to Cas anyway.


End file.
